My Sponge Brained Neighbor
by SupremeRulerBabySun
Summary: A psychological SP ff written in bite-sized chapters. I respond to all reviews, so please feel free to leave comments and/or ask questions. Thanks for reading! *This story will be updated with new chapters periodically*
1. Chapter 1

"Bahahahaha" SpongeBob laughed as he leant out his porthole window "What a b-e-a-u-tiful day! The sun is shining. The clams are chirping. And the squid-diddily-did-ward is still asleep. I really wonder about people who can manage to snooze on such a lovely morning." SpongeBob hopped down from the window "If only someone could show him the beauty of being an early riser...". SpongeBob's brow furrowed and his eyes narrowed as he committed himself deeply to the thought of answering his own question. "Ah!" he exclaimed as a light bulb suddenly appear over his head, "I know! I'll ask Patrick! He always knows what to do in these situations!"

"Oh!" a deep voice then bellowed behind SpongeBob as he turned to face the direction it came from.

"I know! You should ask Patrick, he always knows what do in these situations!"

SpongeBob turned to face the round-bellied starfish holding a light bulb. "Oh, wait..." Patrick paused "I'm Patrick".

"Patrick!" SpongeBob exclaimed "However did you arrive when I needed you so quickly?". "Hmm" Patrick thought "Well my parents always did say I was like a boomerang: I always came back to them when they tried to throw me out."

SpongeBob's facial response was a mix of pity and confusion as he was trying to understand whether Patrick was joking or was quoting something that his parents actually said. Playing it safe, SpongeBob let out a nervous chuckle before moving away from the topic of child abuse and endangerment.

"A-any way" SpongeBob continued as he tried to shift his expression and tone to his usual light-hearted one "I was thinking...Patrick, ol' buddy, that Squidward sure likes to sleep through mornings doesn't he?"

"Well yeah, he's always working at the Krusty Krab. If I was working, I'd be sleeping alllll the time. Oh wait... I do sleep all the time..."

SpongeBob decided not to ask Patrick how exactly he paid his rent if he didn't work, but the answer, like Patrick's home life as a child, was just another mystery that SpongeBob wasn't sure safe to explore, so he continued as if not hearing the last sentence.

"Hmmm. You've got a point there, buddy. Squidward is an awfully-hard worker. Maybe we should find a way to make him feel more relaxed. After all, he tries so hard to play wonderful music for us every day!"

Patrick looked confused "That's music? I thought he just liked to scrape chalk on a board"

"Its insightful artistic interpretations like that that assure me I come to the right man when I need advice. Thanks Patrick!"

"No problem, buddy!"


	2. Chapter 2

"Mmf...hmmmm...hmf" Squidward tossed and turned in his bed as he could hear the obnoxious gaffaws' of his next-door neighbor.

He pulled his pillow over his head and attempted to push them into his ears as SpongeBob continued his daily morning speech; a routine that drove Squidward to hating mornings even if it was weekend.

After a few minutes had passed, Squidward slowly released the pressure of the pillow against his ears. "whew" Squidward sighed in relief. It was silent. Well, relatively so. The car engines could still be heard as they zoomed by, that one screaming baby that always passed by at exactly 8:00 was still on time, and SpongeBob's pet Gary was making sounds as if it were going into labor.

"Hmf, that time of year again huh?"

Silent for Squidward was definitely a few standard deviations away from everyone else's silent, but nonetheless silent for Squidward was his own. Squidward's silent. A phrase of his own making, and, to him, that was enough. It was enough to just own a phrase.

The thought made Squidward smile. But it wasn't much longer until he noticed a tear trickle down his chin and onto his bare chest.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

Squidward's head jerked to his door.

"That must be him"

Squidward waited a few minutes. He knew that he couldn't wait too long or his neighbor would just let himself in. Though, he also didn't want to run to the door immediately as SpongeBob would probably figure Squidward was sleeping on his couch again; which he had. So, he laid there.

Wiping the sleepies out of his eyes, he got up in a groggy stupor. Last night was really rough.


	3. Chapter 3

Squidward put the kettle on to make some tea as SpongeBob and Patrick squirmed on his couch with excitement. As he gathered some cups from the cupboard he noticed a thick blanket of dust that lined the shelves and all of the dishes that sat neatly inside. When was the last time he actually had people over? He couldn't remember. In fact when was the last time he drank tea? Squidward noticed today was certainly out of the ordinary but he couldn't tell if he was too tired or too lazy to actually care.

"OOOOOOOH!" Spongebob screamed; his shrill voice sent shivers down Squidward's spine causing him to pause for a moment as he carried a platter with three overflowing tea cups. The sudden change in pace caused the liquid to spill out, slightly burning the suckers on his tentacle tips. He winced a bit and continued forward at a snail's pace to avoid scalding himself any further.

Spongebob's eyes widened greedily as he stared at the tea.

"Welllll! Squidward! You simply take our breath away with your hospitality! Doesn't he Patrick?"

"It's as if you've destroyed the very element of oxygen itself" Patrick drawled

"Patrick?" Spongebob scolded as a parent would a small child "What did we say about speaking French around Squidward?"

Squidward neglected to respond and instead took a seat and slid the platter across the coffee table. "Well..." Squidward exasperated, his voice sounded as depressed as ever "What torment do you intend to subject me to today?" it was less of a question to the duo as it was to God himself.

"Wellllll! Squidward ol' pal! I'm glad you asked! Today Patrick and I are going to show the WONDER of mornings! We're going to show you what it means to be social butterfly and get out there in the WORLD and out of this stone prison!". SpongeBob always talked in such dramatic tones, and as annoying as it was, Squidward figured it'd be better to go along with things this go around as he could vividly recall the consequences that followed when he rejected SpongeBob's antics. Put in polite words, that wasn't something Squidward was quite keen on reliving anytime soon.

"Ok" he responded simply.


	4. Chapter 4

It smelled of three-week-old banana peels blended with a fragrant aroma of what was sure to be vomit kindly donated by a late-night party-goer.

"For the love of God, SpongeBob, tell us what you're looking for already so I can go home and play my clarinet in peace!"

SpongeBob sprang up from the garbage heap, unidentifiable sludge ran down all of his pores.

"Squidward!" he exclaimed, mouth agape "One shouldn't use Neptune's name so willy nilly like that! Get over here and help me find Patrick, he seems to have lost himself in the refuse"

"Nope! Nope! Absolutely not, there is no way you can convince me to willingly crawl in a garbage bin. Not even if you dazzled pearls and jewels before my eyes, there is no way I am getting in—"

"Squidward? SpongeBob me' boy?" a familiar crustaceous voice could be heard in the distance.

"Mr Krabs?" SpongeBob and Squidward said askance in unison. Both hands full of groceries, the red character scuttled his way closer to his below minimum wage employees.

"What are you boys up to?"

"Well, Mr. K, we're on a treasure hunt!"

The blood from Squidward's face flushed, his face pale as a sheet of paper. Mention one thing about gold, money, treasure, or anything related to the three and throw in SpongeBob and you get an expedition filled with reckless abandon. The value wasn't necessarily in the object itself but in the hunt for those two. Squidward knew this very well, even if they didn't, but it wasn't such a fact that spooked the soul out of Squidward's body rather it was the sheer absence of morality in their actions to reach the end of their quest. In their unquenchable thirst for adventure, no one within the city limits would be safe from what those two would do to find some piece of garbage that they would dub 'treasure'. It wasn't something Squidward ever understood and it isn't something that he cares to ever find some semblance of understanding. All he knows is that he may very well be the only thing that can stand between the two and the rest of the city. In a way, he felt responsible for these grown men as if they were his children. This, however, was something Squidward was not aware of. It was a strong belief held deeply in his subconscious that caused him to say things like:

"Yes. A treasure hunt. Why don't you help SpongeBob dig for it."


	5. Chapter 5

The cold metal of the garbage bin sucked the heat from the back of Squidward's bald scalp. He peeled his eyes open and saw it was dark out. A single street light shone in the supermarket's parking lot with as much enthusiasm to match Squidward's. He shifted and stretched his legs a bit as he felt his knees beginning to ache.

"MISSSSTERRRR SQUIDWAAARD!" the booming voice amplified as it reverberated off the metal walls.

Squidward stiffly lifted himself a bit to peer in the bin, careful to not raise himself past the bridge of his nose. He scanned the interior but the only living thing he could spot among the refuse was a single nematode inching along an apple with a few bites taken from it.

"SpongeBob tells me you haven't lifted a finger to help find the pink one!"

Two sausage like appendages burst forth from an unopened box of tomatoes marked 'FRESH!' painting the interior in juicy red guts. Squidward was no blood spatter analyst, but he was sure he could have been fooled by the scene if he was.

The sausages opened to reveal opal like pupils. Their exaggerated dilation was unmistakably his penny-pinching boss, Mr. Krabs.

"Well..." Squidward muttered as he wiped the viscous juice off his face. "He's not wrong".

Krab's eye's narrowed. He was quite accustomed to the cephalopod's lifeless, blasé quips, but this also wasn't the reason he maintained his composure as he usually did at such comments. No. Krabs knew there was only one thing that motivated Squidward in times like these.

"I'll give you a raise"

"No you won't"

Squidward responded before Krabs could even finish the proposition. He knew Krab's go-to 'raise' scam all too well.

"You're right" Krabs relented

"Then..." he continued in a whisper "I'll give the boyo here time off. What'd you say to that?"

Squidward pretended to think about it for a while; he reveled in stringing his boss along on a hook. It gave him a false sense of power in a life where he had none.

"Three weeks" the squid shot back. The number wasn't something he had given much thought, in fact, he had just said the first number to pop in his head and three sounded like a nice round number.

"Two weeks" the crab responded weakly

Despite all but his eyes being concealed in the garbage, Squidward could tell his boss was just squirming like a little boy that'd been told he had to share his chocolate bar.

"Two weeks" Squidward agreed.

"Good! Now, help me find the sponge! I'm afraid I've lost the boy on my up here!"


	6. Chapter 6

The broken vases, cardboard boxes, and multicolored trash bags formed an unidentifiable aggregate that felt as if it continued unto infinity. Like a worm, he wriggled through the ocean of refuse, careful not to cut himself on shards of glass bottles as he used a metal shower rod to dig forward into the garbage. Even still, he nicked himself more than a few times. It could have been much worse, though. Without the headlamps Krabs gave him, he would have no idea where he was going and was likely to injure himself more than a nick.

"We're almost there, boyo" Krabs squealed

Squidward was certain Krabs had no idea where they were going, so he didn't bother asking. Instead he decided to ask "Where did you get these headlamps?" a question he knew which was equally as pointless as the one he hadn't asked since SpongeBob usually inexplicably materialized items they needed whenever they needed it. So, when Krabs responded how Squidward expected him to, he wasn't all that surprised. Beyond that, he didn't really want to know how or where SpongeBob acquired such objects. And, thankfully, Squidward wasn't left to dwell on such thoughts when he suddenly

"OWWW!" Squidward exclaimed, greeted by a face full of crustacean rear end. He rubbed his forehead from the mark left by what felt like a metal baseball bat that had swung at him at full force.

"Quit yer whinin" Krabs barked "We're here!"

Squidward wasn't sure where 'here' was, but as long as it meant that that was were SpongeBob was, that was enough for him since that mean he was one step closer to resting in his soft bed. Alone.

"Hmm?"

"We're here boy! Look at it! Look at it in it's fully glory!"

Squidward shifted slightly so he could see over Krabs' rotund waist. He couldn't make out much aside for a colorful array of lights that slipped through gaps made between the tunnel of garbage and the vociferous wiggling of the crustacean as he dug his way further into the abyss.

"Well? Ar ar ar ar ar! Onwaaaarrrd!"

Squidward was about to ask what lie ahead but before he could, Krabs fell head first into ground creating a comical popping sound as he abruptly slipped out of the tunnel.

"Where are we?" Squidward said worriedly, his voice cracking a bit as he pulled himself out of the tunnel and into a very, very large chamber.

"mmf mfaf" Krabs uttered into an old mattress

"What?"

Krabs maintained his pose but craned his head up, looking forward with big hopeful eyes "The place, boyo! This is where the treasure be! I can just feel it in me claws!"

"Mr. Krabs" Squidward whined "Forget the treasure! We're supposed to be looking for Sp-"

A loud rumble could be heard from the tunnel and Krabs and Squidward both gulped on command. Not a second later, the tunnel collapsed on itself, sending a few bags flying outward and onto Mr. Krabs.

Squidward started to perspire profusely as he nervously rubbed the top of his left sweaty hand with his right.

"Well..." he said, his voice trembling. At least this place looks safer than most places SpongeBob has dragged us into..."

He looked forward at the theme park, the sign read "STINKY LAND" in a carnival font. Two spot lights whirled on either side of the sign, projecting a rainbow of colors into the surrounding darkness. People could be heard screaming... in joy... Yes, it was probably joy. After all, Squidward thought to himself, people scream on roller coaster rides...

"Well, boyo? What are ya waiting for?"

Squidward hadn't noticed Krabs make his way to the ticket booth already. He was too pre-occupied with processing the situation he was currently in.

"Nobody's at the cash register! Ar ar ar ar ar! Tickets must be free!"

As uncertain as that was, Squidward was equally uncertain about something far more important to him:

Would he freely enter?


	7. Chapter 7

"Ah, HYUCK! Wha-hale-come to STINKY LAND! Step right this way and get your com-pluh-mentary STINKY HATS!"

The buck-toothed carp thrusted two trash bags with strings attached by duct tape to Squidward and Mr. Krabs. A mysterious blackish-brown sludge seeped out of the top of the bag as it was pushed further forward into Squidward's chest. Instinctively, his spine curled and his face wore an expression of incredulity. He turned his head slowly to his partner.

"What?" Krabs said innocently and with a grin on his face to boot. "When in Rome, Mr. Squidward"

Such a banal adage did very little to assuage the churning feeling in Squidward's stomach as the scent of week-old curry and used Pampers wafted towards his nostrils. Shrugging, he took the bag and placed it carefully on his head. Resisting usually makes things worse he remembered. The attendant grinned like an idiot as he assisted Squidward with tying the knot to his chin.

"Alright" Squidward turned to Krabs "There is absolutely no way this day can possibly get any worse"

"Quite yer whining! Look!" Krabs gestured with his right claw at a palmist's tent

"An augur?" Squidward exasperated "How Roman... Aren't we supposed to be looking for SpongeBob?"

"Never mind that, boyo," Krabs waved, "That tent there says FORTUNE! Fortune! You hear that? Where there's fortune there's treasure, Mr. Squidward! Onwaaarrrrd!" he yelled as he made for a sprint. His right hand triumphantly remained suspended in the air.

Despite his corpulence and age, he was quite fast. So fast that Squidward was afraid he might not catch up. Then he remembered. When there's treasure involved, nothing can stop Krabs or the Sponge. Patrick usually wasn't one to worry about since he just followed along with the two instead of starting trouble himself, but the penny-pinching, neighbor loving duo was unstoppable at the face of a bold adventure. Then Squidward realized something else. He was smack dab in the middle of it.

"MR. KRABS! Wait for me! Don't leave me alone in this place!"


	8. Chapter 8

The cramped interior was littered in potted chrysanthemums, glass paraphernalia, and tie-dyed shirts emblazoned by cotton-candy-colored peace signs. An impenetrable haze permeated the tent, slightly blurring Squidward's and Mr. Krab's vision. Krabs leaned toward Squidward speaking in a hushed tone

"Well, this sure takes me back to me younger days."

The palmist, sitting atop a cushioned purple pillow made of silk, made no effort to confirm that he had noticed the two enter. He sat there in utter silence, his wrists rested on his knees arranged in a criss-crossed pattern. His head slightly tilted up as if desperately seeking enlightenment from an omniscient being summoned by the ingestion of illicit substances.

"Ok, this was a mistake" Squidward said before turning heel

"2 weeks, Mr. Squidward" was all Krabs had to say

"Mr. Krabs" Squidward retorted in a hushed tone "What does any of this have to do with finding SpongBob?"

"Squidward... That there is a fortune teller. A fortune teller, Mr. Squidward. You could ask him where SpongeBob is, and I could ask him where the treasure is. Win win eh?"

Squidward wasn't sure if he actually believed in fortune tellers, if Krab's explanation of them was even accurate, or if there was something in the haze starting to get to his head, but he agreed with a nod and decided to take a seat on a cushion in front of the palmist.

"Hello?" Squidward asked warily. The palmist didn't even move a muscle.

"Helloooooo? Anybody home?" The palmist remained still.

"Maybe we should copy him, boyo" Krabs whispered from the side of his mouth before shortly arranging himself in the same pose.

"I am NOT going to sit like a simpleton. I just need to find SpongeBob. Can ya do that oh powerful one? Hello?! Are you even alive?"

"YOUR CLAW, KRABS" the palmist boomed, his eyes emitting lavender purple lights.

"DEAR NEPTUNE!" Squidward screamed as he jumped back bumping into a lacquered coffee table. Glass beads rolled onto his head and a vase depicting meditating fish smashed to pieces next to him.

"YOUR CLAW!" the palmist demanded impatiently "I WILL NOT ASK A THIRD"

Keeping his eyes closed—and with the composure of a stone wall—Krabs obeyed, slowly bringing his left claw up. The palmist felt the ridges of the crustacean's clammy pincer thoroughly, rubbing each ridge as if they bore dirt obscuring the connection between the two. Meanwhile, Squidward, frozen with fear, sat firmly into the ground like a potted chrysanthemum.

"YES. YES. A TREASURE IS HERE BUT IT IS NOT THE ONE YOU SEEK. THIS TREASURE IS FAR GREATER AND WILL FREE YOU FROM THE CHAINS THAT YOU ARE UNKNOWINGLY BOUND BY. IT IS... IN THIS PARK... YOU MUST SEARCH... SEARCH... SEARCH FOR THE CHEST THAT CONTAINS NO DOOR, LOCK, HINGE, OR HANDLE. THERE YOU WILL FIND A TREASURE BEYOND YOUR IMAGININGS! NOW LEAVE MY ABODE IMMEDIATELY AND BE ON YOUR JOURNEY!"

Not a second later, Krabs dissipated in a poof of smoke, nowhere to be seen.

"NEPTUNE WHY!" Squidward wailed "Why didn't I stay home and just play my clarinet" the words become more difficult to say as he buried himself in his hands, sobbing uncontrollably.

"YOU THERE!" the palmist yelled, their eyes unwaveringly locked into a stare. "COME FORWARD, BOTTOM FEEDER! COME AND FACE YOUR DESTINY!"

"Screw destiny!" Squidward retorted as he wiped the tears from his eyes, "I'm getting out of this hell hole!". He leaped for the entrance of the tent and made it in a single bound. He stopped for second, trying to think of something clever to say, but unable to find the words, he walked out without saying a syllable more.

"WELCOME BACK, CEPHALOPOD!"

Squidward opened his eyes. His brow dripped with sweat and his heartbeat was running a thousand miles an hour. He was sitting on a silk pillow again, this time his body paralyzed in a meditative pose.

"READY TO GIVE ME YOUR TENTACLE THIS TIME?"


	9. Chapter 9

"BLEGGHH"

"PROJECTILE AHOOOYYY, MR. SQUIDWARD!"

Chunks of congealed cotton candy and fried chicken splatted across Squidward's face. The greenish blue liquid slipped into his nostrils but he was just thankful his mouth wasn't open at the time.

"Mr. Krabs?"

"Aye lad?"

"How did we get here?"

Squidward strained his neck to look at his boss as they were both suspended upside-down by their ankles—a centrifugal force spinning them in circles. The ropes tearing their ligaments threatened to snap as they desperately clung to splintering wooden beams. The beams extended from a rickety pillar of planks whose holes were stuffed by trash bags. The entire structure looked as if it would collapse if one were to simply exhale too strongly on it.

"I haven't the shell of an idea how. All I remember is passing out and seeing some visions of me days in the war!"

There was never a moment or context that couldn't revive memories of wars that Krab's had dubious participation in, but that wasn't Squidward's main concern. As it appeared, Krabs had no memory of the palmist's equally dubious prophesies. Whoever the message was meant for, though, was irrelevant. At present, Squidward and Krabs both had a more pressing issue to deal with. If the ropes were to give way and snap, and, judging by the last clearly audible snapping sound, splattered calamari would soon be ready to order.

"Krabs!" Squidward yelled, "Cut your rope with your claw!"

"Have ye last yer marbles, sailor?"

"Just trust me, Krabs, you can hide in your shell and then turn off this infernal machine!"

"If you say, so, lad" Krabs shrugged before curling up to reach the rope.

"WAIT!" Squidward yelped, but it was too late. 'In a single effortless swing, Krab's sliced through the rope torpedoing him straight for a stall marked "Sniff or Shell," a game where customers smell random bits of garbage blindfolded and try to correctly guess the object. Guessing correctly earns the customer the malodorous object. And, in accordance with the name, guessing incorrectly requires the customer to shell out a few clams.

"BOMBS AHOY!" the crustacean exclaimed as he retracted his appendages into his hard-as-steel exoskeleton.

"Sweet Mary, mother of God!" Squidward muttered in horror. Krabs didn't think to look before leaping and it cost him. Becoming accustomed to the speed and rotations, Squidward trained his gaze at Krabs' landing space.

They're ok. They're ok. They're ok. The phrase played on repeat, replacing all other thoughts in Squidward's mind—a fruitless attempt to relieve himself of thinking the worst possible outcome. It didn't matter though. He was going too fast. Krab's shell was too strong. And the chum that now covered his entire body, dripping from his pincers, was too much. Too much. Too much. This is too much. He furiously tugged at the rope to get down. He didn't care if he got hurt on his speedy descent; he just wanted to get off this ride. He needed to get away. He needed to get away from Krabs. He couldn't bear to look at him anymore. He shut his eyes tight but he couldn't get the image out of his head. He knew it was an image that would be promised to visit him in his dreams for countless nights to come.

"Mr. Squidward? Squidward? SQUIDWARD!"

Squidward woke, his head throbbing as Krabs violently shook him.

"You're alive, lad!"

Squidward remained silent. He couldn't say anything as Krabs tried to shake his lifeless limbs.

"Thank Neptune" Krabs exclaimed as he burst into tears, burying his face into Squidward's chest.

Get off me. Get off me. Get off me. Squidward's mouth refused to obey him. His jaw locked in place.

"GET THE HELL OFF ME!" Squidward screamed. His voice seethed in unbridled animosity as he shoved Krabs off him as hard as his weak tentacles permitted

"Eh?" Krabs stopped crying but he looked like he could start bawling again at any moment.

Krabs killed those people.

"W-what's wrong, there Squidward ol' pal?" Krabs whispered

How many people did he kill? Two? Three? Four?

"Squidward?"

Was it a mom?

"Squidward, talk to me lad!"

A dad?

"Please!". After that, Krabs' voice quieted, his eyes looked desperately at Squidward. And, for once in his life, Krabs would have given all of his riches for one thing that didn't guarantee a monetary return. He'd sell all of his possessions just to get Squidward to utter a single syllable. Squidward didn't want to utter any syllables, though. Squidward just wanted Krabs to keep talking. He just wanted the crustacean to keep flapping his lips and it didn't even matter what sounds happened to tumble from his mouth. Squidward just didn't want to be left to his thoughts. He didn't want to consider that one possibility that-. No. The thought made him feel as if he could puke his guts. But... what if? What if Krabs had killed...

A child?


	10. Chapter 10

_PING PING PING PING_

The ball bearing rammed between two bumpers over and over before falling to the right through a hole, up a ramp, soaring in the air, landing on a winding railing, until creeping up to the right flipper, ready to be flung back into the foray once more.

The multicolored lights danced around the machine, reflecting off Squidward's glazed eyes. He paid no attention to the ball bearing as it rolled passed the flipper, dropping into the machine, and rattling around a few times before reloading itself in the plunging barrel.

Squidward's gaze remained empty and lifeless as he lazily reached and pulled at the plunger. The metal ball slid forward a bit before landing back at the plunger's head.

"Why Krabs? Why SpongeBob? Why Patrick? Why did I come down here? Why did I let those two imbeciles in my house? Why did I go in that tent?"

That tent. That place that lead to an unspeakable act that Squidward promised to himself he'd never forget. As horrifying as it was, that wasn't the only reason why Squidward had suggested he and Krabs split up to find SpongeBob. He thought it a bit selfish of him, but one of the main reasons Squidward sent Krabs away was due to his ravings about a time when he, armed only with a half-empty ketchup bottle and a bag of stale complimentary crackers, took down ten German Luftwaffe's. Squidward knew Krabs was just trying to cheer him up after what happened, but nothing could make him feel better after seeing what he'd seen.

A tear ran down Squidward's right cheek, landing on the muddied glass pane of the machine.

"Why, Neptune? Why would you do this to me? I'm not a bad squid... I'm a little mean to SpongeBob sometimes... but can you blame me? I mean... have you met the guy?"

Squidward slumped to the floor, his tentacles limply held at his sides.

"What did I do to deserve this?" he whispered.

"CONTINUE OR STAY A LOSER?" a muffled electronic voice teased. It sounded a lot like SpongeBob's voice.

Squidward peered over the top of the glass pane to see the LED screen displaying the text of the voice.

"C'MON, DON'T BE A SQUIDWARD! KEEP PLAYING! IF YOU STOP, YOU'LL BE JUST LIKE HIM! A DEPRESSED LOSER... FOREVER..."

Squidward tightened his tentacles. His suckers began to whiten as he grinded is teeth down to meal.

"WELL? ARE YOU JUST GOING TO SIT THERE? OR ARE YOU GUNNA-"

"SHUT UP, SPONGEBOB!" Squidward screamed as he reeled back his tentacle balled into a fist. He leaned back as if in a stance to cast a fishing rod until suddenly throwing all of his weight onto his right foot and smashing the plunger into the machine.

The ball bearing flew out of the barrel and into the LED screen. The screen's text began to jumble and the card stock score cards began to count down from Squidward's original place at 362,000 to 330,000, then 300,000, and 270,000. The score cards flapped like a cascading deck of cards until the score finally pinged at zero.

Squidward stood there. His tentacle stilled balled into a fist—a quite terribly bruised fist to be exact. His heart, pumped on adrenaline, continued to pound against his chest.

"Screw this machine, I don't even like pinball anyway... YOU HEAR THAT SPONGEBOB?! I DON'T LIKE PINBALL AND I DON'T LIKE THIS NEPTUNE-FORSAKEN WASTELAND! YOU HEAR ME, YOU POROUS SPONGE?! I WANT OUT OF HERE!"

The bumpers, flippers, and ball bearings all jingled in response to Squidward's forceful kick. And, as if having been repaired by such blunt trauma, the machine rumbled and shook. The lights suddenly turned back on and the score cards started to slowly flip: 1 , 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 ,7 , 8 , 9, 10, 20, 30...

"What the?"

The cards picked up speed accelerating faster and faster, generating a small yet violent force of wind. 1,000, 10,000, 20,000...

"W-what's going on?"

100,000, 200,000, 300,000... 600, 000... 900,000, 999,996. The cards slowed to a crawl. 999,997, 999,998.

_THUNK_

The machine turned itself off again.

"Figures... everything in this place is absolutely worthless." Squidward stared at the lonely eight "I wonder"

He reached for the card and manually flipped it to 9. The machine turned itself on once more in an uproarious fashion. A siren on the top of the machine lit up and whirred, sparklers rose from the edges of the machine and burst into sparks, and an ancient brass record speaker lifted from behind the machine to shower the area in a 10 foot radius with confetti.

As the last bits of multicolored paper fell to the ground, the machine came into view once more but this time a curious lacquered oak jewelry box lay atop the glass pane.

Squidward cautiously reached out to inspect the box before immediately retracting his tentacle as the box's lid threw itself open.

A crude model of SpongeBob in a contorted ballerina pose, complete with a torn, frilly pink tutu, spun in circles. As Squidward watched this disconcerting scene, a melodious tune played and SpongBob's voice could be heard.

**A treasure to be found**

**A treasure to be sought**

**A treasure far greater than whatever can be bought**

**A treasure to free you**

**A treasure that will take three of you**

**Don't give up, you have the key with you!**

"Ok..."

A compartment in front of the box then popped forward a bit. Squidward reached for the lip of the drawer and slowly pulled it open in case any other explosions, fireworks, or other such dreadful surprises were to pop out.

Inside the drawer was a worn metal pin, rusted and bent in every which way, in the shape of a pentagram.

"Great... more junk" Squidward moaned as he took the pin and fastened it to his shirt.

"Maybe I'll get tetanus and be free from this dump. Or..." Squidward laughed to himself "Maybe someone will think I'm in some kind of cult and throw me out of here for free"


	11. Chapter 11

"AH HYUCK! That's a fancy-shmancy pin ya got there, kiddo!". The buck-toothed attendant from before now loomed over Squidward. He had to have been at last six, no, eight feet tall. At least. His four-sizes-too-big patched overalls added to his size as they were stuffed to the brim in trash bags.

"Where'd yah get such a thang?" his voice sounded cheerful but in a menacing way. In a "I'm going to break each and every one of your tentacles if you don't tell me" kind of way.

Squidward didn't back down though. Arms folded, he put on an air of indifference and haughtiness. Squidward eyed the attendant top to bottom in an approximately equal mixture of disgust and contempt "What do you want, carp?".

"Carp? Ah-hyuck! I ain't no 'carp'. I'm a Jim!"

"Indeed, and I'm out of here. Goodbye." The carp tried to cut Squidward off, but his arms, thin as toothpicks, could be dodged even by the legendarily-obese Bubble Bass.

"Ah! hwait!"

"Not a chance, trash boy, not a chance"

"SQUIDWARD!"

Squidward came to a halt. His ligaments and tendons stuck like glue as they stubbornly refused to move. His eyes widened and his heart rate started slowly increasing again.

"Look, lad, I know you've been upset with me but—Jim? JIM!" the crustacean began bouncing up and down and he sprinted for the buck-toothed attendant.

"Krabs? Ah! Hwell A'll be! If it ain't the cheapskate crustacean himself!"

"It's been years! What are ye doin here boyo?"

GRUMBLE GRUMBLE GRUMBLE

"what... was... that." Squidward whispered, his voice trembling.

GRUMBLE GRUMBLE

The entire chamber shook with the force of a category get-the-neptune-out-of-there earthquake. It became difficult to stand.

"D'ya hear that lad!" Krabs yelled with his claws cupped around his mouth.

Squidward didn't respond back though. He just looked at his boss as an avalanche of broken bikes, an impounded car, congealed sludge, cardboard boxes, and a sea of black trash bags all appeared to the left of Krabs.

There was a piece of Squidward that wanted to yell out "Run!" or "On your left!". It's not that Squidward wanted Krabs to be saved necessarily... He also didn't want to see even more needless bloodshed. This piece of him fought against the thought that Krabs should be punished, and all he could utter was

"Kra-"

KRSSHHHHHHHHH

The trash ungulfed Krabs. His boss become a member of the garbage aggregate which continued, unfazed, to raze the park and every structure it passed over.

As the avalanche continued and passed out of sight, Squidward sprinted as fast as he could to where his boss was previously standing.

"What the hell, SpongeBob?! What hell have you dragged us all into?"

Squidward looked around everywhere but Krabs was nowhere to be seen. In fact, nothing could be seen for an entire mile long strip of land the avalanche had already passed through.

Squidward began digging desperately in the sludge. But every attempt to move even a handful of sludge was futile as more surrounding garbage filled the void.

"No, Krabs is gone and it's all my fault... It's my fault he's dead... It's... my fault those people are dead... My fault"

Squidward felt a hand like that of a skeletons dig into his right shoulder. A creeping feeling ran up his spine.

"Ah! Yes! It _is_ your fault!"

The hand gripped tighter

"Ah hyuck! Krabs is-Ah! Dead! Hyuck!"

Squidward punched the ground. His fist slowly sunk into sludge.

"Those people, too! Hyuck!"

Squidward slowly turned his head to face the carp. His face pale and his eyes filled with despair.

"W-what people?" his voice quaked

"Those good ol' folks! They even had a kid with them! Ah Hyuck! A kid!"

"Look, I—"

"Ah! Hyuck! We'll do all the lookin ya want in a minute! But first, you gotta come with me". The carp leaned in, his off-putting grin gave no doubt there was a vileness about him; an evil that had afflicted Jim down to his very soul. Squidward had never seen anything like it before but he could have sworn that Satan incarnate was now standing before him. Jim's grip tightened even more—his fingertips felt like sharpened spears as they started to break skin.

"Is that alright with you? Squidward?"


End file.
